


When First Their Eyes Met

by Muccamukk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Bad Flirting, Camp Toccoa, Cruising, First Meetings, M/M, Period-Typical Language, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk
Summary: Bill first notices Joe on the train down to Georgia. After that, it seems like he can't look away.





	When First Their Eyes Met

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HBO War Week Day Two Prompt: Tension.

When it comes to finding someone to screw, Bill's got a system down. The trick is going slow, making sure a fellow's on solid ground before anyone makes a move.

It starts with making eye contact, and if the other guy doesn't look away, holding it for a few seconds too long. After that, moving in nice and close and bumping shoulders or brushing hands, making sure you stand so that the other guy can see the invitation in the cock of a hip or the placement of a hand. If he looks back after that, go out and see if he follows. Bill can make a hook up in under a minute without saying a damn word, which is the way he likes it.

He could certainly have used a hell of a lot less chatter on the train between Pennsylvania and Georgia. Bill gets stuck next a kid from Lancaster who hasn't shut up about lying about his age since he got on board. An hour in, and Bill's decided that if the sergeant doesn't catch the kid and kick him out, Bill's going to knock out the window and throw him off the next rail bridge.

Bill casts his eyes to the heavens, and instead sees a tall, broad-shouldered man who is entirely his type. Their eyes meet for a second, and the man grimaces as if to say, "well, here we all are," then keeps elbowing his way down the passage to the john. Bill watches him go, wondering if he'll see him again in all this chaos.

First night at Camp Toccoa, they're all tossed into W Company until the officers work out where to put them. The guys who've been there for two days are trying to show the new guys what's what—that or scare them off—but no one really knows what's going on, and half the place isn't built yet.

Bill figures that he didn't join the army to herd cats, so he picks a bunk near the back of the tar-paper barracks and makes plans to stay put until an officer tells him to do something else. The bunk next to his is already occupied by a rucksack and that same tall drink of water from the train, sprawled out with his muddy boots dangling over the end.

"Bill Guarnere," Bill says, leaning over and holding out his hand, "From South Philly."

"Joe Toye, Pittston."

That figures. Bill would have guessed coal miner from the man's rough, bone-crushing hands. He has a voice like gravel, and cutting brown eyes. Even baggy olive drab can't bury his handsomeness or the easy confidence of a man who knows how to handle himself.

Bill holds Toye's eyes for a second longer than he needs to just to say hello, but his hands don't linger. Instead he slouches back on his own bunk and folds his arms behind his head. "How's Uncle Sam treating you?" he asks, just to fill the time.

"No complaints. Getting three squares, most of a roof, and ain't down a mine shaft breathing fucking coal dust."

"Yeah, it ain't bad," Bill agrees. He flicks his eyes up Toye's body, taking in long legs, and lean hips, broad shoulders that have never known anything but work. When he gets to Toye's face, his lips are turned up in half a smile and he's looking back at Bill too.

That doesn't mean anything, as much as Bill would like it to. The line between buddy and something else isn't any more clear cut here than it was working on the assembly line, or any other place packed with twenty-year-old guys who don't know if they want to fight or fuck.

Bill doesn't know what it is about Toye, but two minutes in, and he's really hoping it's the second one. He's also hoping he hasn't guessed wrong based on two looks look and half a smile, and that he isn't about to get punched in the kisser.

Before he can say anything to work it out, some prick with captain's bars is yelling at them all that it's time to go run up a mountain or some shit, and they're falling in. Bill tries to end up in the same platoon as Toye, but it doesn't happen. He wouldn't have had any breath after that anyway.

They see each other after dinner, as everyone's falling into their bunks, and two guys in ten have migrated from Welcome Company to Washout Company.

Toye's standing beside his bunk looking like he could turn around and run right up the mountain again. He doesn't look half bad in PT shorts, so Bill saunters up and leans against the wall, about a foot and a half between them. The barrack's filled with the smell of a hundred sweaty guys, but Bill wants to step in close and bury his nose in Toye's shirt.

Bill ignores how Toye's eyes are raking down his body, and asks something stupid about how often they'll have to run up that hill. He can feel his t-shirt clinging to his chest, and runs his hand though his hair to get it off his face.

"Often as we have to," Toye says, like it's no big deal. Bill wonders how much of that's front, but figures less than most of the other guys. Toye would do whatever it took to be the best, and Bill instinctively knows that Toye will do whatever it takes to keep his buddies alive, too.

"You got a girl back home?" Bill asks. The combination of exhaustion and excitement makes him reckless.

Toye laughs. They're not even assigned to companies yet, and Bill knows that he's going to spend years hearing that laugh, and getting caught between being pissed off and turned on every time. So long as he can make it through the next five minutes.

Bill folds his arms and tips his chin to scowl up at Toye. "Something funny?"

"Why don't you just ask me if I like girls?" Toye asks, a repeat of the notorious army recruiting question, which everyone with brains answered "yes," no matter if they were a queer or not.

So maybe that'd been moving a little too fast, but Bill's in it now, so he keeps looking Toye right in the eye. "Well, do you?"

Toye shrugs, like he doesn't give a shit one way or another about that either. Hell, maybe he doesn't. Bill looks him over again, and remembers the strength of his handshake, thinks of those hands in his hair, digging into hip, stroking his cock.

Bill sucks his teeth, and glances across the barracks to the door. "Gonna take a leak," he says, and makes his way out into the night.

A minute later, Toye follows.


End file.
